A Boid for His Song and the Key ta His Heart
by Asian-Inkwell
Summary: Racetrack needed a someone to sing his song while Spot needed someone to unlock his hurting heart. Who will be the bird and key they need? RacetrackxOC and SpotxOC Rated T just in case. (On hiatus. Expect an update in late July or August.)


_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Newsies! I just own this story and all the OCs involved in it. _

**Note: **This story is especially for _To bE mY HEaRt. _She's been a real help with this story and I've finally managed to push this one onto its feet. I couldn't of done this without her. TTwTT Thanks soo much, _To bE mY HEaRt! _And I hope all of you enjoy it! :D

* * *

_Rain poured softly onto the streets of New York, making the city rather quite except for the soft patter of rain. Not many people wished to venture into the cold, wet streets. Most of them were safe and warm in their homes, the lucky ones that is. People with money and families could enjoy a rainy day safe inside, not like little street rats left to find some sort of shelter on their own._

_ "T-Thomas, it's r-really c-c-cold out t-taday." Ravenna shivered as she and her friend sat under a small shelter they had made out of some crates._

_ Thomas sighed. "I know..."_

_ "M-Maybe we sh-should go t-t-ta the R-Refuge?"_

_ Thomas frowned and shook his head. "No... we can't go there. A-Arthur t-t-told us not t-t-ta go there."_

_ "W-We can't j-j-just stay out here like d-d-dis. We don't know n-n-nuthin' about b-b-bein' on the streets." _

_ "Don't worry. I'll-I'll t'ink of s-s-somethin'. I'll take care of ya j-j-just like I promised."_

* * *

"Gah, it's so hot!" Racetrack complained to himself as he took his cap off and wiped the sweat off his brow. _Funny I was thinkin' of a rainy day. _He fanned himself with some of his newspapers. _And funny too how I thought about her again._

Racetrack squinted as the sun peeked out at him through the little shade he had found by the bridge. It was a terribly hot day. No, it was more like sizzling hot day. Sweat just seemed to pour out of your skin as soon as the sun's rays hit you. A swim in the river just sounded wonderful to Racetrack, but work came first then play. But thanks to this awful summer weather, it was hard to concentrate on selling, period.

Racetrack grunted. _Maybe dat's why my thoughts been strayin'._

"Heya, Race!"

"Hmm?" Race shaded his eyes as he saw Boots running toward him from across the bridge.

"Hullo, Boots."

"Ya gotta help me!" the younger newsie pleaded.

Race blinked. "What seems ta be the problem?"

"Brooklyn!"

Race sighed through his nose. "Whadja do dis time?"

"Nuthin'! I didn'tmakeConlonmadoranythin'! Iwasjustswingin'byBrooklyntatalktaNickelsbef orefinishin'upsellin'," Boots paused to catch his breath a moment before he continued, "whenIsegotjumped! Nowyagottahelpme! He'sstillchasingme!"

"Um... could you repeat dat?"

"RACE, HELP ME! HE'S CHASING ME!"

"I ain't deaf! Who's chasin' ya?"

Boots pointed frantically behind him. "HIM!"

Race looked up to see a newsie running up toward him and Boots. Well, the newsie didn't look like he'd be too much trouble for Race. For Boots, maybe but then Boots wasn't much of a fighter. At least not when he's in Brooklyn and especially not when he's jumped.

Race pushed Boots behind him. "I'll take care of 'im. You betta cheese it though just in case."

Boots bobbed his head quickly up and down before scurrying out of sight.

Race rolled up his sleeves and readied himself for the oncoming newsie.

The newsie slowed to a stop and approached Race cautiously, giving Race an opportunity to study him. The newsie didn't look familiar so obviously he was a newbie. That would also explain why he jumped Boots. Most of the Brooklynners left Boots alone since Spot had a soft spot for him (odd but no one was ever curious enough to ask why).

"Hey, are you the leada of the newsies ova here?"

Race coughed back a laugh. Him? The leader of the Manhattan newsies? This newbie was quite the joke! Spot hadn't told this kid here anything.

"The name's Racetrack. Jack is the leada ova here."

The newsie looked slightly embarrassed. "I need ta talk ta 'im 'bout somet'in'."

"If it's about da kid ya jumped, you can just walk back ta Brooklyn. He wasn't causin' any trouble."

"Not causing trouble?" the newsie snorted. "He was sellin' in Brooklyn territory."

Race held back another laugh. "You really knows nothin'. Boots neva sells in Brooklyn. Tell Spot he needs ta train his new recruits betta."

The newsie frowned. "I don't need Sp-"

The newsie was cut off as the man of the hour placed his hand on the newsie's shoulder.

"What have we here?" Spot tsked.

The newsie seemed to shrink as he turned to face Spot.

"Hi..."

Spot glanced at Race then made a coughing sound. "I apologize for him. Tell Boots dat I'll settle everythin'."

Race raised an eyebrow. "Ok."

Spot then escorted his little newsie back to the Brooklyn. Okay... so the newsie was only just a tad shorter than Spot, but he _did _look younger and smaller compared to Spot.

Race turned to go find Boots when something Spot said caught his attention.

"Scissors! Ya ain't suppose ta be crossin' inta Manhattan yet!"

Race pursed his lips as he watched the two Brooklynners walk off.

Scissors, eh? He had heard rumors of fights between a newsies dubbed 'Scissors.' That little kid was him? How very interesting. He'd have to talk to Spot about it after the races.

* * *

There was restlessness in the air. Race could feel it. It wasn't just him. The horses seemed that way and even Spot. Maybe the events of the day spurred it? Was it all right to ask right now? No... his mind urged him to wait. Later would be better.

Spot fidgeted some. "When is the stupid race gonna start?"

Race shrugged. "Soon enough. The hoises are actin' up some."

Spot grunted.

Race glanced at his friend. Now, maybe?

_BOOM!_

No, it was time to pay attention to the race. Patience was the key for now.

Race grinned as he took in his winnings after the race. He knew his horse wouldn't fail him today. Spot just stood to the side as he waited for his friend. He had never been interested in the races or the betting. He just went for Race's sake.

"You finished collectin'?"

Race grinned wider. "Yup. Ready ta head to Medda's for a bit?"

Spot shook his head. "I got business to take care of."

Race raised an eyebrow. Now was the time. "Would that business be 'Scissors' by any chance?"

Spot narrowed his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A bit of a short chapter but I'm hoping to make longer ones in the future. XD Oh and please check out my profile (if you want to and are able to) and vote for which of my stories you'd like to see me finish first. :) Thanks soo much! I really appreciate it.


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